Rewriting the Stars
by GryffindorCriss
Summary: The story of how Newton Scamander ended up joining the circus. (Or: The Newtina/Greatest Showman AU that no one asked for but I decided to write anyway)
1. The Greatest Show

The Greatest Show

It was by pure accident that Newt Scamander ended up at the circus that night, dazed and curious; he had wanted to spend the night out in New York, hoping to perhaps see a play of some kind before retiring to his hotel room (paid for generously by his parents), but the sight of large crowds had drawn him in. As he followed the groups, keeping his head low and his coat drawn tightly around himself, he overheard chatter of a circus – not just any circus, but the most amazing circus that ever was; it was filled with oddities and curiosities, and, by the sound of things, it seemed to entertain people more than any play ever could.

He had bought one of the last tickets of the evening, squeezing his way into the stands and finding a seat on the back row; it was completely packed, throngs of people chattering excitedly as they waited for the show to start. Newt could only look around in slight awe, admiring the lights and the band silently; the curtain to backstage seemed to flutter a few times, but no one exited – they were all obviously getting ready.

He didn't dare think about what his family would say if they knew he was attending a circus show – somehow, he doubted they would approve of such a thing. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

The lights went down, and a hush fell over the audience; the young man immediately straightened, intrigued and even – dare he admit it – excited to see what was to come.

A tall greying man came out from behind the curtain, holding a cane and bounding out into the ring; he was dressed in a finely tailored red coat adorned with gold buttons, a top hat perched on his head. Whispers started excitedly at the sight of him, and Newt was certain he heard a woman in front of him say, "That's Mr Percival Graves!"

"Ladies and gents," The man announced grandly, spreading his arms. "This is the moment you've waited for!"

The crowds cheered loudly as the man grinned, several spotlights suddenly lighting up the room; the red curtain at the back opened, and suddenly the ring was filled with singing and dancing people. Newt's mouth fell open at the sight, and he wasn't sure where to look first: there was a bearded lady singing her heart out, an African American woman in a turban slipping over to ring-master and dancing with him, someone completely _covered_ in tattoos…

Everyone was clapping and singing along with the opening number, and the happiness on their faces was like nothing he had seen before – certainly, no one had left one of his brother's plays looking like that. It was impossible not to laugh and join in – and so he stopped trying to fight it, surrendering completely.

The ring-master introduced each of the acts as they came on to do their own segments; Newt watched each of them in awe, applauding them enthusiastically when they bowed and headed off-stage before settling back in his seat to watch the next one. The woman with the turban who had been dancing with Mr Graves was introduced as "the magnificent songbird, Seraphina", and she came back on to sing: her voice brought everyone to amazed silence, and the cheers after she had belted the last note seemed to echo around the room. Perhaps he had imagined it, but the woman seemed to press a small kiss to the ring-master's cheek before returning backstage – _that_ was certainly not something his family would have approved of if they'd been watching, he thought.

"…And now, ladies and gentlemen," Graves announced dramatically, and he gestured into the air with his cane. "Saving the most daring for last, we have the incredible, the fearless, the _sensational_ Goldstein sisters performing their amazing – and dangerous – trapeze act!"

The spotlights rested on two platforms situated overhead – and there they were, suddenly jumping from their perches. An audible gasp rose from the crowd as they fell, and Newt felt his breath catch in his throat from fear: surely they would fall and break their necks, they would be _killed_ -

The taller of the sisters caught hold of a bar, easily swinging forward and flipping so that she was hanging by her legs; she reached out and caught the other woman by the hands, pulling her up as they swung away again. The smaller girl – a blonde wearing a pink leotard – reached out when her sister let go of her hands, grabbing onto a hoop; she gracefully climbed up onto the rope it was hanging from, stretching her legs out and beaming down at the audience. The older woman – dark-haired and clad in a bright blue leotard – swung once more and grabbed hold of another hoop, hoisting herself to sit in it as she looked across the ring.

The audience cheered, but the girls were not finished yet; the blonde was now hooking her legs in her hoop, swinging upside down and gaining more momentum with each passing second. The dark-haired woman merely swung, reaching out her legs and stretching; when she was close enough, her sister took hold of her legs – and then they were flying once more, the blonde holding tightly to her sister's ankles. As they swung towards him, Newt found himself focusing on the brunette; she was so incredibly close now, and while she wasn't low enough to hit him, it was still close enough to see the relaxed look on her face as she opened her eyes.

Time seemed to stop as her gaze met his, dark brown eyes meeting greenish-blue; she was stunning, absolutely _breath-taking_ , beneath the lights of the circus. Newt could only stare in awe, feeling his heart start to race in his chest as a small smile graced her features – for a moment, there seemed to be a connection, a shared moment between the two of them that could have lasted forever.

And then she was gone again, swinging in the opposite direction to perform one final trick.

He could barely concentrate on the rest of the show once the sisters had taken their bow; the entire circus appeared again for a closing number, and he searched the throng of performers for the girl again. She wasn't dancing on the ground, so he looked up to the air – and there she was, twirling on a hoop in a way that she made look easy. He couldn't take his eyes from her, not even as he clapped along with the screaming crowd after the bearded lady sung a high note.

The spotlights dimmed, casting the building in complete darkness; when the house lights came back on seconds later, she was gone.

* * *

Despite himself, he returned to the show the next night in the hopes of glimpsing the beautiful trapeze artist once more; he waited patiently during the other acts, clapping accordingly when needed but still waiting for the aerial act to begin. When Graves stepped out into the ring to announce the Goldstein sisters' act, Newt immediately straightened up and raised his eyes to watch.

And there she was, in her bright blue leotard again as she flew through the air with her sister; he was utterly captivated by the sight of her twirling and twisting on the ropes, gracefully falling and catching herself at the last second. The costume she was wearing was rather revealing, leaving long bare legs on display, and Newt could feel a slight heat rise in his cheeks at the sight; he hadn't seen that much of a woman's legs before, it wasn't considered proper, and his family would have been scandalised by the sight. Still, it was more than easy to forget just how little she was wearing as he watched her fly through the air gracefully, seeming completely at home in the air. The act finished slightly differently than the previous night, with the two sisters falling into the arms of the other performers waiting in the ring before standing to take their bows; nearly all of the members of the audience were on their feet, giving them a standing ovation complete with shouts of admiration. The Englishman clambered to stand with them, unable to stop himself from grinning as he kept his gaze on the dark-haired trapeze artist; she bowed with a small smile, holding hands with her sister on one side and the ring-master on her other.

Just like that, it was all over; the lights came up, the performers disappeared behind the curtain, and the audience buzzed as they made to leave the building. Newt felt somewhat disappointed, though he couldn't place why: he had seen the girl again, just like he had wanted, and he'd had a good time watching the other acts too – so why was he dissatisfied?

He found himself hanging back as the rest of the crowds left, looking around the building and at the ring in interest; a part of him couldn't help but hope that perhaps the woman would be at the door to say goodbye to crowd members tonight, that he could maybe say something to her (what, he didn't know). To his disappointment, however, the ring-master and the woman in the turban were at the door instead.

"…Thank you for coming to the show tonight!" He heard Graves exclaimed, rather upbeat as he tipped his hat to two young ladies. "Remember, folks, it's a different show every night – different acts, different tricks, you name it! Next time, be sure to bring all your friends and family!"

Newt was one of the last few people to leave, hoping until the very last second that he might see the trapeze girl once more; she did not reappear, much to his disappointment. As he was nearing the door, however, the sound of raised voices caught his attention, and he peered over the heads of the other crowd members to see what was happening.

"…You should take your freaks outta our town!" A man was snarling, flanked by a group of other similarly angry-looking men. "We don't want them here!"

"I won't ask you again, gentlemen," Graves said seriously, putting himself between the woman in the turban and the protesters. "Show's over, and you're trespassing on our property."

" _Your_ property?!" The man exclaimed incredously. " _You_ 're in _our_ town, with all your…your freaks and your weirdos…"

One of the other men's eyes flickered to the woman in the turban, and he sneered. " _Nigger lover_."

The ring-master stepped forwards, raising his cane and looking murderous; the dark-skinned woman took hold of his arm and sent the protester a withering look. "Ignore them, Percy. These small-minded people aren't worth the trouble."

Still smirking and laughing to themselves, the men walked away from the circus; several audience members who had still been around looked visibly uncomfortable, avoiding looking at the two performers as they hurriedly left the building. Newt could only frown to himself; he couldn't believe that people would treat others like that, even though he'd seen it first-hand for himself numerous times – it was baffling that people could be so cruel. He had been subject to it a few times, mostly at school, but _never_ anything like that.

He didn't realize he was the very last person to leave until he was greeted at the door by Graves and the woman, both of them smiling politely at the sight of him lingering.

"Show's over, I'm afraid," The ring-master jibed good-naturedly, though he still looked visibly vexed. "You can always buy a ticket for our next show, however – both parties profit that way, after all."

"Oh, ah, right," He mumbled, smoothing down his coat and avoiding the older man's eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, I'll be leaving now."

"You were here last night," The woman in the turban – Seraphina, he recalled – stated, and her eyes were twinkling somewhat. "You must really enjoy our circus to come two nights in a row."

Newt floundered for a moment, not knowing how to explain; Graves looked bemused and chuckled. "Now, now, Sera, let's not chase off a paying customer – he's more than welcome to attend our shows as often as he wants, provided he buys a ticket each time. Tell me, son," He turned to the younger man playfully. "What was your favourite part of the show?"

"Oh. I…I didn't have a favourite part," He lied feebly. "Everything was…wonderful."

" _Wonderful_ …never heard that word about our show before," Seraphina muttered with a smirk.

"No, but it has a nice ring to it," Graves decided, and his eyes seemed to flash for a moment. "Well, in any case, sir, have a good night – maybe we'll see you again soon!"

Newt ducked his head, hastily walking away and not looking back; as much as he hated to admit it, a part of him _was_ hoping to see the show again – though now that he had been noticed as attending twice, perhaps it wasn't an option. He couldn't help but wish that he'd gotten the chance to speak to the trapeze artist, though what he _would_ have said was still unclear to him – he would have most likely just embarrassed himself, he thought, as he did around most people.

Sighing and tucking his hands into his coat pockets, Newt set off down the street for his hotel room, wishing despite himself that there was a way he could talk to the beautiful trapeze girl properly, that there was a way of introducing himself to her. For now, he would have to settle with the memories of her flying through the air, of her bright blue leotard, and of her dark eyes as she swung his way.

* * *

 **I am so excited to share this with you all! Are you guys excited?**

 **I've seen The Greatest Showman five times now (today was number 5), and I absolutely adore it – and I just wanted to write this so badly after seeing the film!**

 **Please don't forget to leave feedback! It means the world to me!**


	2. A Flair for Show Business

A Flair for Show Business

As a child, Tina had enjoyed being in the air; whether she was climbing trees or jumping from furniture, she loved the feeling of being off the ground. It had made her feel like she could fly, that she was free, if only for a single second. Queenie had followed her sister's example, much to the amusement of their parents: where Tina went, Queenie would follow, and they did almost everything together. It was a good life, and while their family wasn't rich by any means, they had a home and were happy.

But then their father had gotten sick, some mysterious illness that no doctor could cure, and their mother followed shortly after: the disease claimed them both within a week – and the girls were left orphaned.

They had had no other family to take them in, and so they were alone in the word – nothing but each other. They were forced onto the streets, resorting to stealing just so they could eat, and they struggled to survive. As the oldest, Tina knew she had to step up and take care Queenie – had to make sure she was protected, that she survived. She was in charge of her baby sister now, and she wanted to take care of her as best as possible – for their parents.

And then, one afternoon in December, whilst they were trying to escape a hiding from one of the store keepers they had stolen food from, they ran into Percival Graves.

He was an upper-class gentleman from a respectable family, one of the most eligible bachelors in New York – but he took one look at the two orphaned girls, at their dirty faces and torn clothes, and immediately took them in. They had been wary, particularly Tina ( _smart girl_ , he had thought to himself) to follow him, but when he prepared them a large dinner and offered them his bed, they seemed to warm to him.

"Where are your parents?" He had asked the following morning over breakfast as both of the girls dug in eagerly.

"Dead," Queenie informed him, and she frowned sadly. "Just me and Teen."

It took him only a fleeting second to make up his mind: two little girls wouldn't survive on the streets, especially not in this weather, and he couldn't have that. Once they'd finished eating, he informed them that they were welcome to stay for as long as they needed to; he took the day off from his father's business, using it to go out and buy new clothes for the girls as well as fresh blankets. There were two beds in the guest room, so he made them up and offered them to the girls.

A part of him was, truthfully, thrilled when they didn't leave. They weren't a family, not quite, but he had grown fond of them fast despite himself – and, unwittingly, the Goldstein sisters had grown fond of Percival Graves too.

* * *

As he soon found out, his family didn't approve of him taking in two orphaned girls, deeming them 'sewer rats' and disowning Percival completely; he no longer had a job in his father's business, no inheritance, nothing. He knew needed a way to provide for the two girls after this, a way to give them a good life, but word spread quickly among the upper-classes and businesses – it was near impossible for him to find a long-term job. With the rest of his earnings that were left over from his time in his father's business, he had bought an old closed down museum; all that was left were dusty stuffed animals and artefacts, but he was desperate. He racked his brain for ideas on what he could do with the place, how he could start his own business, something that people would enjoy and pay good money to see.

It had been Queenie who'd given him the idea when she and Tina came with him to the abandoned museum, peering around curiously and looking at a tall giraffe model. "I wish it was alive," The blonde girl had said thoughtfully. "I wish everything was alive, like real elephants and lions and…and mermaids!"

Tina gave her sister a look. "Mermaids aren't real."

"They might be – maybe they're hiding underwater and explorers haven't seen 'em yet." She took Percival's hand, beaming happily. "You should get alive animals, Percival, and get people to look after them…and maybe people to dance and do shows, I think people would like that!"

"It's not a circus, Queenie," Tina muttered, though she looked intrigued too.

Later that night, after the girls had gone to bed and he was thinking things over, he considered what Queenie had said – and he realized she'd been right. Live shows were bound to generate some interest, he reasoned, particularly for families looking for a day out; maybe not wild animals (not yet anyway), but surely there'd be people with interesting acts to share. Families would be sure to love that kind of thing, and there was good money to be found in running a circus – provided he did it right, that was.

After putting out notices for acts of all kinds – singers, dancers, acrobats, even just _unusual_ people – he'd been overwhelmed with the response; interviewing them all took days, and it seemed that in no time at all he'd gathered a troupe of interesting and curious acts for the public to watch. Most of them were people who couldn't find employment elsewhere, particularly due to their skin colour or where they came from, but that didn't matter to Percival – not if they could all make some money with what made them unique.

Word spread fast, and it wasn't long until anticipated crowds were turning up, curious to see the strange things advertised in the paper and on buildings; the crowds only continued to grow and grow, reaching people of all kinds across the country. Acts retired over the years, but Percival had found that there was never a shortage of oddities who came looking for work in his show – there were so many, in fact, that it was possible to alternate acts from night to night.

Tina and Queenie had loved coming to both rehearsals and to shows, and the whole circus loved seeing them just as much as they enjoyed seeing the acts – in an odd way, the circus quickly became a second family to the girls, a place they could call home. To add, Percival knew he could rely on any of the performers to watch the girls while he worked in his office, and the girls were always good as gold; it was an almost-perfect arrangement.

It was only a few months after the circus' first show when Percival had left his office to find both of the girls twisting and swinging from the trapeze ropes with two of the professional aerialists nearby – and he'd nearly had a heart attack at the sight.

"Both of you, get down from there!" He called up sternly, trying to control the fear in his voice. "Get down before you break your necks!"

"Ah, come on, Percy," One of the aerialists had jibed good-naturedly. "They're in safe hands – we're not about to let anything happen to them. Besides, they're naturals at it."

"We could make a trapeze act outta them yet," Another agreed, grinning and chuckling.

When both of the girls had gotten their feet on the ground, they ran to him; the excitement on their faces was unmissable, their joyful giggles ringing through the building as they bounded over to him.

"Did you see that, Percival, we were so high-!"

"-Please can we do it again, Percival-?"

"Susan and Walt can teach us, they're the best-"

"Percival, _please_ let us learn how to do it like them!"

It was undeniable – he, Percival Graves, had a weakness for these girls. The whole circus troupe had taken to teasing him over it, and he'd ignored it or tried to brush it off – but it was the truth. They had him wrapped around their little fingers, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Looking between them and taking in their wide eyes and bright smiles, he knew he was beaten.

* * *

Over the years, it had become a ritual for the troupe to go out for drinks after the evening show and catch up; thankfully, the owner of the local bar didn't have any problem with a group of 'oddities' in his establishment, so long as they paid, and he didn't stand for any nonsense – those who attempted to start fights or who started to fling insults were thrown out immediately. Given the popularity of the show, each of the performers had been given a small pay raise – which meant more drinks in the evening, much to everyone's pleasure. Not everyone went out every night – some preferred to stay in their tents most nights, only going out when the mood struck – but there were always at least a few people who ventured out for a drink, not returning until the early hours of the morning.

Tina, personally, was more inclined to rest in the tent she and Queenie shared, tired after performing each night – but her sister insisted that they go out a few nights a week, just for fun, and she couldn't bring herself to hold her back. Queenie was the social butterfly of the circus, the blonde beauty who many audience members were dazzled by under the lights, and perhaps if she hadn't been an aerialist – if circumstances had been different – she could have even been accepted into high society.

In contrast, Tina preferred to keep to herself and her sister; she was friendly with the others, of course, and she enjoyed their company, but she was nowhere near as social as her sister. There was nothing ugly or particularly strange about her, nothing that would alienate her in 'normal' society like some of the others, but it was undeniable that her sister was the beauty of the two of them. She didn't care, and there was no bitterness on her part: other than the circus, Queenie was the only thing she had left in the world – they had to stick together to survive.

That evening's show had been particularly tiring, partly due to the fact the sisters had worked hard all week on new tricks – it had been completely worth it, in the end, if the ovations from the crowd were anything to go by. All Tina wanted to do was get out of her leotard, take off her make-up and head to bed for an early night; there would be rehearsals the next morning, new routines to work on, and she needed the energy. As soon as the show ended, she headed backstage and to the changing area reserved for her and her sister; she made sure to pull the privacy curtain before working on taking off her costume.

No sooner had she stripped herself of it, the curtain was yanked open and Queenie appeared, glowing with excitement. "There you are, Teen!"

Tina hurriedly reached for her blouse and sent a pointed look at her sister. "Queenie, shut the curtain!"

The blonde huffed but closed it again before shrugging out of her own leotard. "You're not completely naked, Teenie… Anyway," She brightened up again. "We did good tonight, Teen! The crowd loved us!"

The older woman had to suppress a smile. "I know."

The sisters were just hanging up their costumes when Percival appeared; he glanced over the two of them, obviously checking that they were both dressed, before stepping into their changing area. He was still dressed in his ring-master outfit, the gold buttons on his coat newly polished and gleaming in the light; he smiled at the two of them, although there were definite traces of tension on his face too – it wasn't difficult to figure out why. "Excellent show tonight, girls – the crowd loved those new tricks!"

"They were Tina's idea," Queenie hummed, and Tina flushed at the praise. "She spent days coming up with 'em!"

"Well, it paid off," He assured them, smiling even wider. "At this rate, I'm going to have to give you both pay raises. Anyway," He shifted on the spot, straightening his coat out. "I wanted to ask what you ladies will be doing this evening; the others have already headed out to O' Malley's if you want to join them."

Queenie cast a glance at her sister, looking slightly hopeful; Tina hesitated, avoiding both of their eyes and instead looking at the floor. "I…wasn't planning on going with them," She answered carefully, and her sister's shoulders drooped. "But you can both go if you want – don't let me hold you back."

"It ain't the same without you," The blonde huffed, disappointed as she folded her arms. "We never go with 'em, Teenie; it could be a load of fun."

"I know, but…but I'm really tired," She muttered, guilt rushing over her. "But you can go without me, Queenie – I'll be fine on my own. Go have fun."

Queenie still looked uncertain, biting her lip and gazing at her sister pleadingly; Percival stepped closer to the taller woman, giving her a serious and concerned look. "Tina, you haven't been out with everyone else in so long… I understand you're more of a solitary person, but these are people you can trust; this circus is a family for everyone, regardless of where they come from or who they are. You're a young woman, and you should be out having fun like everyone else – not sitting in a tent on your own."

"I know, Percival," She sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the spot. "I'm sorry, I know I should go out with everyone else more – even if it's just once a week or something – but I guess I just feel…awkward. Unsure of what to say, even if I _do_ know them." Tina hesitated, looking between Percival and Queenie before taking a deep breath. "I guess…I guess _one_ drink wouldn't hurt."

The blonde's face lit up with excitement, and their mentor chuckled quietly. "That's the spirit, Tina! Tell you what, you girls head to the bar and I'll come meet you after I've taken care of everything here; tell everyone to put their drinks on my tab."

As he turned away and left their curtained-off area, Tina couldn't help but smirk as Queenie giggled. "He's going to regret that," She said dryly. "Once he realizes just how much they're all drinking."

* * *

It was still relatively early in the evening when the show had finished, certainly too early to go to bed, and so Newt had decided to go for a drink somewhere; he didn't want to wander too much around New York, given how unfamiliar he was with it, and so he settled with a bar that was just around the corner from where the circus was – it would be more than easy for him to navigate his way back to his hotel, at any rate. Trying to push the thoughts of the trapeze girl from his mind, he pulled his coat tighter around himself and stepped into the bar.

It was, admittedly, somewhat of a dive; it didn't look particularly clean, there was no one except for the bartender inside, and it looked rather deserted. Having said that, it meant more peace and quiet – far better than being packed in tightly with drunks looking for a fight. Satisfied, Newt took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey while he thought of where he was to go next.

His trip to America had been an impulsive one, more of an escape than anything else: the memory of his brother, Theseus, announcing to everyone at one of their parents' dinner parties that he was to wed Leta Lestrange, the daughter of another upper-class family, was far too painful. It was unbearable to imagine having to face his brother at this moment, having to congratulate him and pretend to be pleased, when his heart felt like it was breaking all over again. His parents would want him home soon, however, not wanting rumours to spread of his disappearance: a scandal was the very last thing they wanted – it was already difficult enough to preserve their image, given that he had managed to get himself expelled from one of the most prestigious schools in England.

 _I'll need more than one whiskey to make this more bearable_ , Newt thought miserably.

He had been halfway through his second drink when the bell above the door jingled to indicate new people; when he cast his gaze over to the door, he was shocked to see that several members of the circus had appeared. They were out of costume, but still easily recognizable; the black woman with the turban, the lady sporting a beard, someone tattooed from head-to-toe, many others. He tried not to feel too disappointed when he realized that the girl he'd seen performing trapeze was not among them.

The group didn't even seem to notice him sitting there, instead starting to drink immediately; they were a rowdy bunch, rather loud but cheerful as they laughed and bantered with one another. It was a sharp contrast to the parties thrown by the wealthier classes, and yet, for some reason, Newt couldn't help but wish that he could join them. Other members from the circus trickled in, joining their friends and toasting to another successful show without a care in the world – and yet, there was still no sign of the trapeze artist he'd been mystified by.

 _Perhaps I imagined her_ , he thought humourlessly to himself, and while he knew that realistically it wasn't possible, he still couldn't help but think it was more and more likely with every minute that passed. _What would Theseus say if he saw me like this? Rather, what would Mother and Father say? I can't imagine they'd be terribly pleased – they'd probably accuse me of having no shame, ruining the family name perhaps._

These thoughts weren't helping in the slightest; sighing to himself, Newt signalled to the bartender with the intention of ordering another drink for himself – anything to numb the unpleasant thoughts in his head. "Excuse me, sir-"

"Hey, O' Malley; two shots of whiskey – the good stuff."

And there she was, standing right beside him and leaning against the bar: the beautiful young trapeze artist.

* * *

Upon entering O' Malley's, Queenie had immediately made her way over to a corner occupied by the other performers, beaming and in her element; left behind, Tina had huffed quietly and decided to get drinks for her and her sister. There was only one other person at the bar, and he seemed lost in thought – certainly not the kind to start fights with 'circus freaks', like so many others did, and she found herself relaxing somewhat. It was easier to be comfortable with the knowledge that there'd be no heckling, no abuse tonight: it meant that she and Queenie would be safe, which was the important thing.

"Hey, O' Malley," She called, leaning against the bar. "Two shots of whiskey – the good stuff."

O' Malley gave her a nod before quickly pouring her drinks; from the corner of her eye, Tina noticed the lone gentleman looking at her – there was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn't say what. He was staring, rather dazed and wide-eyed, as if surprised that she had appeared: he had most likely seen the show and recognized her.

Wanting to be polite, she gave him a small smile. "Evening, sir."

For a moment he was silent, still gazing at her with wide-eyed awe – and then he seemed to come to his senses, hurriedly straightening up and avoiding her eyes. "Oh, yes…erm…good evening."

He sounded British – he certainly wasn't from New York, that was for sure – and, judging by his clean pressed clothes, he was one of the upper-class. It was somewhat strange, for usually the wealthier classes looked down on their circus; she'd been on the receiving end of many disgusted looks from such people, and it always made her feel rather ashamed.

By this point, O' Malley had finished pouring the two shots of whiskey and was sliding them across the bar to her. "Let me guess," He muttered knowingly. "Percy's tab?"

"Percy's tab," She agreed, giving him a grin. "Same goes for everyone else – he said he'll pay at the end of the night."

"The man's got too much money," He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, Goldstein, you enjoy your drinks; I'll be right here if you need anything."

The British man was looking at her again, though he was obviously trying to hide it; Tina couldn't help but raise a brow at him, somewhat confused. "You gonna keep staring?"

"I…Sorry," He said, rather flustered; his face had gone rather pink. "I was just…the show this evening, you were…I mean, the entire show was rather fantastic, of course, but your act was… _breath-taking_."

Pride flooded right through her at his words, and she was sure that her cheeks were going red; she'd heard all kinds of words used to describe her and Queenie's act, but 'breath-taking' hadn't been one of them. It left something in her stomach fluttering pleasantly. "Well…thank you," She managed, and her smile suddenly turned shy. "I'm glad you liked it – we've been working hard on those tricks for weeks, so it's nice to know it's all paid off."

An awkward silence fell between them as both of them debated what to say; the man looked somewhat embarrassed, certainly out of place in this bar, and Tina couldn't help but wish she knew what to say instead of just standing there uselessly. After a moment, the man turned back to his drink and stared at it, now going a rather dark shade of pink in the face.

"Well, thanks," Tina said, glancing over at where the other members of the circus were waiting; Queenie was watching her intently, clearly intrigued by what was being said. "Glad you enjoyed the show, sir. Have a good evening."

"Yes," He agreed politely. "Yes, have a good evening."

Not wanting to linger any longer and create any more awkwardness, she crossed the room and made a beeline for Queenie; her sister gestured to the gentleman in interest. "So?"

"So?" Tina repeated as she sat down, still feeling somewhat out of place from the conversation that had just taken place.

"Who's the fella? Anyone interesting?"

"Just a guy who watched the show earlier," She muttered, trying to shrug it off. "It was kinda awkward…he liked our act though."

Queenie beamed brightly. "He said that? How sweet!" She glanced at the man again, studying him and clearly thinking to herself. "Hmm…he looks real lonely over there, Teen. Maybe we should invite him over?"

"I don't think so – like I said, he seemed real embarrassed. Besides, he's dressed like a swell; last thing a guy like him wants is to be sitting with people like us."

" _Like us?_ We're no different than anyone else," The blonde said, somewhat hurt.

"I didn't mean it like that," Tina assured her hurriedly. "I know that, and you know that – everyone here knows that – but you know what the high-brows are like. They think they're better than everyone else just 'cause they have money."

Queenie huffed. "Percival weren't like that, not even before he lost all his money. Besides, that guy doesn't look so bad – just shy, I think."

"You're probably right," She agreed with a sigh. "I dunno, Queenie…I think we're better off just leaving him alone. Like I said, he just seemed really awkward and embarrassed about the whole thing – let's not make him feel any more uncomfortable."

Her sister didn't look too happy about it, but she nodded and picked up one of the shot glasses filled with whiskey. "Alright, fine…let's just have fun tonight, Teen! We ain't been out together in a long time!"

It was more than easy to fall into the comfortable chatter of the other members of the circus, laughing and joking with them as they celebrated another show gone well – it didn't take long for the young British man to be driven to the back of her mind at all.

Meanwhile, Newt was silently cursing himself for being so inept at conversation and at embarrassing himself in front of the trapeze artist; she was even more beautiful up close, he'd found, and he'd had to do his best not to stare at her. It didn't surprise him that she'd looked rather put off by his attempt at conversation – that was the usual reaction, after all – but he still wished he could have said or done something slightly smoother.

He was just contemplating leaving, going back to his hotel room perhaps, when someone appeared at the bar beside him and a smooth familiar voice spoke.

"O' Malley, my usual? Thank you."

It was the ringmaster, Percival Graves; although he was no longer wearing his top hat and bright red coat, he was easily recognizable by his handsome features, his dark hair streaked with silver. Waiting for his drink, his eyes drifted over the bar, taking everything in with clear precision – and then they rested on Newt, and his expression changed.

"I know you," Mr Graves stated, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "You were there tonight, correct? Sera said you were there last night too."

"Oh, erm…yes," Newt affirmed, averting his eyes once more.

O' Malley returned with the older man's drink, exchanging a few short pleasantries with him before returning to wiping down the bar; as he did so, Mr Graves turned back to Newt and leaned against the bar casually.

"So," He said coolly. "You enjoy our show then?"

"It's…rather wonderful, yes."

"You sound British," He continued, unperturbed by any awkwardness present. "What brings you to New York?"

Newt hesitated – the truth was far too complicated to give to a stranger, and not something he particularly wanted to discuss. "Just…felt like a short holiday, I suppose. Your show has been the highlight of my visit, though, if we're being honest."

"Glad to hear it," Mr Graves chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Like I said back at the door, you're welcome to come to as many as you want – so long as you keep paying, that is." He considered the young man in front of him for a moment, his mind clearly working and putting the pieces together. "Must say, I'm surprised an upper-class gentleman such as yourself came to our show – usually that's the kind of people who look down on us."

"How did you-"

"I used to be like you," Graves continued. "Rich, an inheritance, a job in the family business… But thanks to two little girls, I ended up with nothing but love, friendship, and a work I adore – and I don't regret a thing."

Newt smiled, somewhat sadly. "That sounds wonderful, I must say. Certainly better than how suffocating it all is – how stiff everyone can be." He sighed, looking down at his empty glass. "I do enjoy my work, you know, researching animals – I love them more than anything – but life can certainly be difficult in other areas."

Percival Graves considered the younger man for a few seconds, and suddenly there was a knowing glint in his eyes. "You know, good sir, you would be wonderful in show business."

"Me? In… No," Newt stammered, surprised by this revelation. "I'm afraid I don't sing or dance nearly as well as any of your acts can, Mr Graves – I'd be a rather terrible addition to your circus."

"I didn't mean as an act," The other man said knowingly; the fingers of the hand not holding his drink were tapping rhythmically on the wood of the bar, his mind working a mile a minute. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"Newt Scamander."

"Well, Mr Scamander," Graves began grandly, rather like he was a businessman about to give a pitch of some kind. "I think you would make a rather fantastic apprentice."

* * *

 **Thanks so much for the support, guys! :D** **I hope you're all enjoying so far! I was stuck on this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it :)**

 **I'm going to Disneyland Paris from Sunday to Thursday, so I'm afraid I won't be able to update until Thursday at the very earliest – but I'll certainly be doing some writing on the journey there and back! :D**

 **Feedback/Reviews are what keeps me going!**


	3. Everyone's Got An Act

**Hey guys! I'm glad you're all enjoying the fic so much, it truly warms my heart :3 I hope you guys enjoy this next installment!**

* * *

To say that he was nervous was an understatement – he was extremely anxious to the point of almost being terrified.

Newt still wasn't quite sure why he had agreed to Mr Graves' proposal, if he was quite honest: it wasn't as if he had been inebriated at the bar, even after a few shots of whiskey, and he was certain that if it had been anyone else asking, he would have declined. But Mr Graves was…different; there was something about him that made him persuasive and set the young man at ease. The way he spoke of his plans for his circus had been so confident, so sure, that Newt had found himself drawn in all too easily.

His family would never forgive him if they found out.

As he approached the circus building later that morning, Newt planned an apology to give to the ringmaster: he couldn't stay and be a part of a _circus_ , of all things, and he was expected to return home to England soon. Besides, he had only a vague idea of how it all worked, and he doubted he would be terribly useful anyway – it would be best for everyone involved if he ducked out while he still could. As he carefully let himself in through the stage door out the back (as Percival had instructed him to), he went over the speech he had prepared one last time and braced himself.

He found himself in the dressing rooms backstage, and he was surprised to see that it was completely empty; he could hear some chattering and quiet from the direction of the stage, however, and he supposed that they were probably rehearsing. For a brief second, he wondered if the dark-haired woman would be there to practice her act, swinging from her trapeze alongside her sister – and then he discarded the thought, trying not to think about her. It was a silly infatuation, absolutely ridiculous to keep thinking about, and the sooner he stopped the better.

Newt was considering finding a pen and paper, scribbling his speech out and fleeing before anyone could find him, when he heard a movement; curious, he realized that it was coming from an area up a flight of stairs. Mere seconds later, a face appeared from over a railing and grinned.

"Ah, Mr Scamander!"

"Oh…erm…Mr Graves, hello," Newt said awkwardly. "I was just-"

"No need to apologize, we're just going over some acts," Graves assured him before waving a hand. "Come, come up here and I'll talk you through everything – much better view from the platform."

The older man disappeared without a moment's hesitation; speechless, Newt looked at the stairs and then sighed – so he would have to do it in person after all. The steps creaked slightly under his weight as he made his way up, stomach twisting in knots and face flushing at the thought of what he was about to do; he just hoped that Mr Graves wouldn't be _too_ disappointed.

He found Percival peering out of a curtain, clearly studying an act rehearsing; he saw Newt out of the corner of his eye and smiled again, turning towards him. "Tell me, Mr Scamander, what act did you enjoy the most on your visit last night?"

"Oh, well, I… They were all fantastic," The Englishman answered, and his speech disappeared from his mind all over again at being put on the spot. "Everyone in your show is talented, sir."

"Please, call me Percy," Graves said easily. "The whole circus do, and you're no different! Come, you must think one act stood out in particular?"

The younger man swallowed. "Well…yes. I must say, I rather enjoyed the trapeze act."

Something in Percival's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes, the Goldstein sisters are very popular in our show – two of the hardest workers too, at that. In fact, they're practicing a new routine out there right now; would you like to take a look?"

"Oh. No, I couldn't possibly… I wouldn't want to distract… I was actually…"

But the older man just waved a hand dismissively, taking him by the shoulders and steering him towards the opening in the curtain. "Nonsense, I'm sure they'll barely even notice you – and even so, the more feedback on their act the better."

Newt found himself pushed through the curtain, suddenly standing on a very high platform that couldn't have been completely safe; for a moment he felt incredibly dizzy, looking down at the ground, and he barely noticed the rest of the circus watching the air from below. He saw the bearded lady hooting, a tattooed man cheering, and the woman in the turban was pointing at the sky – but not at him. Cautiously, he raised his eyes to see what had captivated them all so.

And time slowed to a halt.

His gaze immediately met a pair of dark brown eyes, and his breath caught in his throat; swinging towards him, almost as if in slow-motion, was the brunette trapeze artist – and she was even more stunning up close. Her arms were outstretched towards him, legs wrapped around a bar and her form _perfect_ as she flew through the air; her mouth had the faintest smile, eyes twinkling with a slight merriment that made something in his chest tingle in the most pleasant way.

For him, there was nothing else in the world in that moment – just _her_ , gazing at him with all her wide-eyed beauty.

* * *

There was a strange familiarity that came with flying through the air, a freedom; it was so easy to leave any troubles below on the ground and just let herself go. When she was swinging and falling, the world fell away – it was just her and Queenie together, a bond of trust between them that they would catch each other without fail.

Tina heard a few of the other circus members clapping and cheering as she wrapped her legs around a bar and let go of Queenie's hands – she couldn't help but smile to herself, pleased. The momentum made her swing towards the other side of the room, and as she flew high she arched her body with her arms outstretched; head held high, she drew her gaze to the nearby platform to see if Percival was watching.

Instead of the cool steely grey of her mentor's eyes, however, she found herself staring straight into the brightest blue-green she'd ever seen.

The man watching from the platform was not Graves but a young man in a faded coat; in the back of her mind, she recognized him as being the awkward gentleman from the bar the previous night. He seemed absolutely entranced, his lips pursed and expression one of complete awe as he locked eyes with her; Tina felt something in her stomach flip as she gazed back at him, time seeming to slow. Up close, she realized he was rather handsome in a subtle kind of way; his hair was rather messy, as if he didn't quite know how to tame it, and he had so _many_ freckles, like he had spent too much time in the sun perhaps.

As she swung away, Tina felt light-headed and strange, though not in an unpleasant way; for the first time since she had taken up trapeze, she found herself distracted. Thankfully there was just one more trick – a fairly easy one at that – but she was certain that her sister would be able to see it on her face that she wasn't as focused now. Trying to shake off the image of the man from her mind, she forced herself to focus on her technique, on making sure that she didn't fall to the ground and seriously injure herself.

Even after she and Queenie had finished, however, and the group down below clapped enthusiastically, she couldn't quite stop thinking about the strange man in the faded coat.

* * *

Once the girls had finished, Newt found himself being pulled away from the platform and back towards the stairs; he was briefly aware of Percival talking to him animatedly, but he couldn't take any of it in. His mind was still in awe of the beautiful brunette – she had been so close, almost enough to touch, and it had taken him completely by surprise.

As they reached the bottom stair, two people entered from the stage; his heart thudded in his chest when he realized that it was the Goldstein Sisters, still in their practice leotards.

"Ah," Percival said grandly, capturing the attention of the two women. "There's the two shining stars of our show – girls, you did magnificently!"

"Oh, but you're biased," The blonde woman laughed fondly as they drew near. "Teen and I still have some things to work on before we go on tonight – we nearly fumbled that last trick."

The older man merely waved a hand dismissively. "I know you two, and I know you'll have it all worked out in no time. Anyhow, allow me to introduce you properly to my new apprentice." He gestured towards Newt with a grin. "Girls, this is Newt Scamander – and Newt, I'd like you to meet Queenie," Here, he motioned to the younger of the women, dressed in pink. "And Tina."

 _So that's her name… Tina._

As the blonde beamed, the brunette folded her arms and looked him over curiously. "And what is your act, Mr Scamander?"

Newt was speechless. "My…oh, erm…I don't have an act-"

"Everyone's got an act," Tina said wryly.

Graves laughed, shaking his head at her. "We'll see if he has an act – for now, I've hired him to be my apprentice and, if all goes well and we can get the right papers signed, our animal trainer."

Queenie lit up. "Animal trainer? Does that mean we can have ponies? Imagine how amazing it would look, us riding around on a set of ponies during the opening number!"

"Now that's an idea," Percival agreed thoughtfully. "We'll have to see what we can afford – a lion or two might increase our ticket sales, and I'm sure the crowd would enjoy an elephant… But until then, he's going to be helping me with running and organising everything. Anyway, you two better get some rest before the show tonight – wouldn't want you to fall out the sky in the middle of your act."

The younger woman beamed widely at the Englishman as she and her sister turned to leave. "It was real nice meeting you, Mr Scamander – you're gonna be a great addition to our show, I know it!"

Newt mumbled a goodbye in response to her, but his eyes were fixed on the brunette; Tina merely gave him a tight smile before rushing away with Queenie, looking somewhat awkward and uncertain. For the life of him, he couldn't think of what he could have said to her – his mind had been wiped completely clean by their encounter just minutes previously, the only thing he could think about being how bright her eyes were and how beautiful she was.

He didn't notice the small smirk Percival gave to himself in amusement, nor the knowing look on the older man's face as he followed him up to his office.

* * *

Meanwhile, behind the privacy partition that separated the sisters' space from everyone else's, Queenie was giving her sister an equally knowing look.

"That fella seems nice, doesn't he?"

Tina shrugged. "I guess. He's that swell from the bar last night."

"I thought I recognized him," The blonde hummed, readjusting her leotard. "You know, he's kinda cute."

Her sister frowned. "Oh? Really?"

"Cute – but not my type," She continued slyly. "Do you think he's cute?"

"I think he doesn't know what he's getting into," Tina muttered, somewhat sharply. "Just give it a month or so, and he'll realize what he's gotten himself into and leave…he'll probably go back to his fancy home with all his money. Not all of us have that luxury."

But Queenie wasn't fooled: she knew her sister better than anyone, even Percival, and she knew what she had seen. There was an obvious attraction there, some kind of mutual spark – and she'd be darned if she wasn't going to encourage her sister to pursue it.

 _After all_ , she thought to herself as she started to brush her hair out, _Teenie deserves to be happy with someone she likes – even if she won't admit it just yet._

* * *

 **Firstly, I apologize for how long it's taking me to update – I've had other things and writer's block. In fact, I have some amazing news: one of my screenplays is going to be performed for four nights during the Camden Fringe Festival! :O I've had to do some edits to it to make sure it's fit for the stage, but I'm so excited!**

 **Anyway, don't forget to maybe leave a nice comment? :)**


	4. Dreaming With Your Eyes Wide Open

**Sorry for the wait! Again, writer's block, family, work etc. etc. I'm hoping to finish this story before TCOG comes out, however, so please don't lose faith in me! xD**

* * *

Percival had called the entire circus backstage just a mere hour later, waiting patiently for them to shuffle in; they all took notice of the new man immediately, curious and whispering to each other. Newt could only smile weakly, eyes involuntarily scanning the crowd – and then he saw _her_ , standing beside her sister and looking at Percival expectantly; he felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at the sight.

"Alright," Graves began, looking around at all of them with a gleam in his eyes. "You've had a great rehearsal, everyone, and you should be very proud. You finished just in time too, because our new apprentice has arrived; everyone, this is Newton Scamander."

"Just Newt is fine," He added quickly, trying not to go red.

As the acts all eyed him up, the older man continued talking. "Mr Scamander knows a great deal about animals, including some of the wilder ones; I was rather impressed by his knowledge when I talked with him last night, and I think he'll add something excellent to our show. You're all to be nice to him," He added jokingly, and some of them smirked. "Make sure he feels at home with us and all that – he's part of our family now."

The dark-skinned woman in the turban who he had seen singing during the shows stepped forwards, smiling somewhat warily with a glance towards the ring-master. "Of course. Welcome to the circus, Mr Scamander – if you're anything like Percy claims you are, then we're more than happy to have you."

"Oh. Erm…" Nervously, Newt extended his hand. "Right, thank you."

The woman seemed surprised at this, hesitating before placing her hand in his; a few of the other circus acts murmured as they shook hands, looking around at each other curiously. "You're something, Mr Scamander," The woman decided, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. "I think you'll fit right in."

Percival clapped his hands together and looked at everyone meaningfully. "Alright, we'll have time for the pleasantries later – right now, I want to polish a few things. Sera, you want to go over your new number?"

"Sure," She said, smiling at him; Newt noticed that the ring-master's cheeks went only slightly pink, giving her a smile of his own.

"Great. Everyone, you've got ten minutes to get some food and all that – and that doesn't mean heading to O' Malley's for a quick drink," He added, casting a knowing glance at a tattooed man. "We're all a part of the number, so everyone needs to be sober."

Newt couldn't help but feel slightly dazed as the circus dispersed, each of the acts retreating to their own areas to freshen up. It didn't escape his notice that a few were still casting glances at him, intrigued and clearly wanting to ask him questions, and he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved that they were too occupied to do so for now.

"Don't worry, you'll be sitting on the side-lines for this rehearsal," Percival assured him suddenly, starting to make his way to his office; the younger man hurried to follow. "We don't have any animals just yet, and even if we did there'd be no way of getting them trained enough for tonight's show, but it shouldn't be too long. For now, you'll just be watching the show, making suggestions and all that."

"Ah. Right."

"You'll come to enjoy the circus life," Graves said, bemused as he held his office door open. "You'll see. They all might look intimidating at first glance, but we're a big family – everyone here will accept you with open arms, so long as you do the same. Now, as for this afternoon's rehearsals, you'll be in the stands and giving feedback to everyone; don't be afraid to be tough on them."

Newt swallowed. " _Tough_?"

"We can't have them getting lazy," The older man chuckled, going over to his desk and picking up what looked like a cane. "When they get lazy, they stop trying – and we can't have that! Even if it's something small, tell them anyway: it'll push them to do better."

"I don't know if I can be…critical," Newt said unsurely. "I wouldn't want to offend anyone or make them angry-"

"Hogwash," Graves interrupted easily, shaking his head in amusement. "Trust me, Mr Scamander, they enjoy criticism far more than being told they're perfect – it shows you're paying close attention to everything they do. Everyone in our show strives to be the best they can, to make the most of their time in the limelight each night: you'll be helping them, I promise. Now then," He announced, tucking the cane under his arm. "We've got a rehearsal to run. Just pay attention to everything, and you'll be fine."

The younger man wasn't so sure that this was the case, and he felt a thrill of panic run through him.

 _What on Earth have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Sitting in the stands and watching the circus rehearse was rather strange and surreal, Newt found; they all made it look so easy, the way they moved around the ring, their smiles professional and even somewhat sincere. It was obvious that they all enjoyed what they were doing, every one of them, and the young man couldn't help but stare in awe.

Seraphina had been the first to practice her act, a beautiful upbeat song that left all of them entranced. None were more entranced than Mr Graves, however, and he seemed more than thrilled when the singer sent him a smile and a wink; Newt wondered if there was something to that, the looks and glances. It would have certainly made sense.

The Goldstein Sisters performed again shortly after, calling down to the troupe below for advice on how to improve their tricks. Newt tried not to stare too long at Tina, worried she would think him strange, but she barely glanced his way, too focused on her craft. Queenie, however, seemed to have no problem in smiling at him, her beautiful face open and friendly; he could only smile back uncomfortably, feeling terribly self conscious of himself.

After they'd finished their rehearsal and the bearded lady took to the spotlight, the sisters appeared from backstage and made their way over to the stands to sit with the others. Tina looked warily at everyone else, trying to determine the best place to sit; Queenie, however, beamed as took her sister by the arm and marched her towards the front row where Newt was sitting.

"Hi, Mr Scamander!"

"Queenie!" Tina hissed half-heartedly under her breath, looking mortified.

Newt felt his face grow warm as they came closer. "Oh, erm, hello… You were both wonderful, by the way," He added hurriedly.

The blonde smiled even wider. "Thank you, Mr Scamander! Say, do you mind if we call you Newt? Much more friendly that way, I think!"

"Err...yes, of course."

"Swell!" She pushed her sister to sit next to him before taking the next seat along. "Tina and I are real excited to have you in our circus, Newt; we can't wait to see you train some animals! I really like ponies, even if Percy's more eager for lions - there's something so quaint about ponies; don't you think?"

Newt, overwhelmed, could only nod.

"What do you think, Teen?" Queenie prompted, nudging her sister.

Tina looked like she'd rather be anywhere else than between the two of them, her cheeks dusting pink. "I...yeah. Sure."

"So, Newt, you really like our act, huh? I heard Percy and Sera talking about how much you enjoy it."

"It's...fantastic," Newt said honestly. "Really. You're both very good at it."

"It's mostly Tina," Queenie insisted, and her sister seemed to shrink into her seat. "She's the brains behind the whole thing - when we were little, she was the one who got us into it. I only enjoyed it so much because of her!"

Newt couldn't help but glance at Tina, somewhat curiously. "Oh? Well...you should be proud of yourself, T- Miss Goldstein," He managed. "It's truly very enchanting to watch."

"Queenie's just being modest," Tina said uneasily. "She's the one everyone comes to see, not me."

"I wouldn't say _everyone_ ," Newt mused before he could stop himself.

She looked at him, surprised by this; overcome by sudden embarrassment, he ducked his head and averted his gaze to the ring to watch the bearded lady finish her number. Queenie, on the other hand, was more than thrilled.

"See, Teen? I told you, you just gotta be more confident in yourself is all!" She sat back in her seat happily, watching her sister and the new assistant as they shyly exchanged small awkward smiles before looking away from each other.

Oh, there was definitely something there, Queenie decided to herself triumphantly, even if the two of them were too slow to see it yet. They just needed a little push, that was all.

And Queenie was more than willing to be the one to give it, if necessary.

* * *

The show that night went off without a hitch; Newt watched everyone from behind the curtain, unable to disguise or dismiss his interest, and occasionally gazed over at the crowd. The audience members were just as excited and pleased by the circus, cheering and hollering as each act came and performed. The biggest cheers seemed to go to Percival's opening number and the trapeze act – unsurprising, Newt supposed, for he was just as entranced.

"How were we?" Queenie breathed as she and Tina returned backstage, both of them looking flustered but alive.

"Wonderful," Newt said sincerely. "Really, very…erm…well done."

Queenie smiled widely. "Aw, you're a sweetheart. C'mon, Teen," She hummed, turning to her sister. "Gotta get changed for the final number."

He made a point of avoiding looking at Tina's bare legs as she and her sister returned to their private section of backstage, trying not to go red in the face but failing miserably. He was certain that Queenie winked at him knowingly before she disappeared, much to his chagrin.

By the time the show finished, the crowd were bordering on wild; all of the performers lined up to take a final bow before the lights went down and they returned backstage. Graves briefly praised all of them before taking Seraphina by the hand and bringing her back out so that they could say goodbye to the audience members. Newt found himself at a loss of what to do – perhaps he should go and say goodbye to the audience too? No, he decided suddenly, that would seem strange: no one had seen him, after all, for he had not been a part of the show. The performers were getting changed, so it seemed inappropriate to bother them just now.

Just as he was pondering on this, a hand tapped his shoulder; when he turned, he found himself face-to-face with Winston, one of the heavily-tattooed men from the show. The other man grinned at him. "You drink, Newt?"

"Drink? Um, not usually, but I do enjoy the occasional drink I suppose…"

"Great!" He clapped the British man on the back. "You can come out with us to O' Malley's, celebrate you joining us officially!"

"Oh, that's really not-…"

But his words fell on deaf ears. "I'll let everyone know – make sure we're all there for it, gotta welcome you properly!"

Winston was gone before Newt could find a way out of it, much to his dismay; he could already hear the tattooed man telling everyone to come for drinks, people cheering happily. There was no wriggling out of this one now.

Despite himself, however, he couldn't help but hope ever so slightly that _she_ would be there too.

* * *

"We went out last night for drinks," Tina huffed, though she allowed her sister to drag her down the street by her arm. "I'm tired – I wanna sleep."

"Oh, stop complaining," Queenie chided cheerfully. "It's to welcome Newt properly to the circus; it'd be rude to not turn up! Besides, I think you two hit it off real well earlier – maybe you could talk a little to him?"

Tina made a noise of disagreement. "We didn't… _hit it off_ ," She insisted stiffly. "Why would you even think…you're being silly, Queenie."

"I know you, Teenie," The blonde scoffed happily. "You like him, I know you do; he's kinda cute, right? Not my type, but…"

"I don't think…he's not…" The taller woman trailed off, frowning as they approached the door to the bar. "It wouldn't matter anyway. Let's just get this outta the way so I can go back to the circus and sleep."

The rest of the circus were already there, laughing and drinking jovially; a few other patrons were there tonight, probably those who had been in the audience for the show, looking only somewhat bemused by the rowdy group. Queenie immediately marched up to the bar with her sister by her side and smiled at O' Malley brightly. "Six shots of whiskey and a martini, please!"

" _Six_?" Tina hissed in disbelief; her head was already pounding at the thought.

Queenie pretended not to hear her, glancing around the bar with interest; her gaze fell on a stout gentleman on a stool nearby. He had been watching them, she realized, and he hurriedly looked away when her eyes fell on him.

 _Huh_ , she thought absent-mindedly, _he's real cute_.

Without hesitating, she moved closer and started to speak to him. "Hi there!"

The man seemed to do a double take, looking around to see if she was talking to anyone else; finally, he cleared his throat and grinned shyly. "Hey."

"Were you at the show?" Queenie asked pleasantly as Tina watched in dismay. When he nodded, she beamed. "I thought so! We see so many people when we're up in the air, but something 'bout you looked kinda familiar. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yeah," He agreed genuinely; there was no malice or pity in his voice whatsoever. "Last time I went to the circus was with my Grandma when I was a kid – seeing the show brought all those memories back, 'specially your trapeze act. I always liked the trapeze ones best."

Tina coughed, giving her sister's arm a small tug. "Queenie…"

But her sister didn't seem to hear her, laughing good-naturedly at what the man had said. "You're a real charmer, ain't you? Bet you say that to all the girls…"

"No, it's true," He insisted enthusiastically. "It's like watching birds fly, you know? I was watching, and the whole time all I could think was that you could've fallen – but you didn't. Graceful and weightless, like a bird…like it all came natural."

Queenie's cheeks tinged pink, her smile soft now. "You're awful nice… I'm Queenie."

"Queenie…that's a pretty name," The man said, somewhat awed. "Jacob, Jacob Kowalski."

Tina looked away from them, rather exasperated; she didn't need to be a mind-reader to know that her younger sister was completely taken with this gentleman. She looked at the drinks on the side of the bar, forgotten by the blonde, and sighed; of _course_ she was left alone now, just when she'd been dragged to the bar against her will.

Scanning the crowds at the bar, she tried to find Percival – he'd understand if she complained of a headache and fatigue, and she'd be able to go to bed. Before she could find her mentor, however, a familiar mop of reddish-bronze curls caught her eye; she was admittedly surprised to see Newt sitting by himself, nursing a drink and looking just as awkward as she felt.

 _Fine,_ she thought irritably as she took the martini from the bar and made her way over, _I'll talk to him – just so Queenie will leave me alone. Not that she'll notice, though, talking to that fella like she is…_

"This seat taken?"

Newt glanced up, alarmed at being spoken to, and swallowed at the sight of her. "Erm, no. No, it's not taken."

"Great," She sighed, sitting down opposite him and placing her drink on the table. "So, you're not enjoying this either, huh?"

A wry smile broke out on his face. "Afraid not. I don't do public outings or celebrations, at least not _well_ – I wasn't really given a choice though."

"I know how that feels," Tina muttered, glancing back over at Queenie and the Kowalski man; the blonde was now listening intently to something he was saying, eyes bright and full of wonder.

"It's not that I'm ungrateful," Newt explained quietly. "It's just…well, I think I would have preferred something a little more private and with a lot less drinking."

"Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the circus doesn't work like that," She said, smirking slightly. "Rowdy talk and drinking are pretty much everyone's favourite things to do 'round here."

Newt chuckled. "Yes, I supposed so. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but…but you don't seem like the type to behave that way, however. I hope that's not too forward of me to assume…"

"No, that's true," Tina admitted, taking a sip of her drink. "I prefer staying in, getting some sleep and all that, you know? I'm not exactly great at all this social stuff."

"I know the feeling," He agreed, and he sighed under his breath. "My brother does so well at all the parties and events, chatting everyone up, and I can barely get two words out before I embarrass myself."

"You have a brother?" She asked, surprised.

He nodded uncomfortably. "Yes. Theseus is…not really like me at all. I suppose that's why everyone likes him so much – he's quite popular with everyone."

"Queenie's the same," Tina muttered; her sister was now giggling at Jacob Kowalski, who was grinning at her as if he'd never seen someone so lovely in his life.

A long moment of silence fell between them, neither sure of what to say; finally, Newt cleared his throat and managed to raise his eyes to look at her. "So, Miss Goldstein-"

"Just 'Tina' is fine."

" _Tina_ ," He corrected. "How did you get into this business, if you don't mind me asking?"

There was no judgement in his tone, no derision, so she shrugged. "Well…I liked climbing and jumping off of stuff when I was little, liked jumping out of trees especially, and I guess I never grew out of it." A small smile formed on her face. "It's kinda like flying – for a split second, you're in the air with nothing to hold you up or stop you…it's like you're a bird or something."

"How wonderful," Newt breathed, and he looked rather intrigued – it took her aback slightly to see him so interested. "To be free and fly through the air…I can imagine why you'd love it so much."

"Yeah – I got Queenie hooked on it too," She mused. "Where I went, she followed, so… We met Percival before he started this circus up, and we saw other people doing aerial acts; we took up training as soon as he'd let us."

He grinned, somewhat shyly, at her. "Your parents must be proud that their daughters are such wonderful trapeze artists."

And just like that, the absent-minded smile was wiped from her face. "We don't… They're dead," She said brittlely, immediately putting her guard back up. "They died when we were kids."

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry," Newt apologized quickly. "Really, I…I shouldn't have said-"

"It's fine," Tina interrupted. "You didn't know."

"No, I didn't. I truly am sorry," He said sincerely. "To lose your parents so young…I can't even imagine how the two of you must have felt."

She cleared her throat and avoided his eye. "I don't wanna talk about it," She stated sharply, and she stood up from her seat. "I gotta go; got a show tomorrow, so I should sleep."

"Of course. Well, why don't I walk you back?" Newt asked quickly, nearly knocking the table in his haste.

"I know where the building is," She huffed, trying not to roll her eyes.

"Of course, but it's dark out," He insisted. "You never know who's out on the streets around this time of night… It would make me feel more assured if I knew you weren't walking about on your own."

Tina eyed him, raising her brow as she pulled her coat around herself tighter; after a moment of deliberation, she sighed. "Fine, if it'll make you feel better than I guess you can walk back with me."

She didn't want to admit it, but she _did_ feel a little safer taking his offer – given the disdain people had shown for the circus in the past, it was nerve-wracking to walk around in the dark alone. At least with Newt with her, she wouldn't have to deal with any hecklers alone.

That was the only reason, of course – otherwise, she thought, she would _not_ have taken him up on his offer. Absolutely not.

* * *

While Jacob had gone to track down the barman to get them more drinks, Queenie sat on her stool and beamed to herself; he was a sweet fella, she'd found out, one of the nicest she'd met. He had seen the show that evening and loved it from start to finish – he'd gone to so many circuses with his grandmother as a boy, and theirs was the only one he'd seen that gave him that same feeling when he watched. He was a complete gentleman too, complimenting her and telling her about his bakery; he owned one locally, he'd told her, and he loved making pastries for people because he wanted to make them smile.

Her heart had swelled at that particular remark, and she found herself already taken with him.

As she waited, someone nudged her with their elbow to catch her attention; when she turned, she found herself face-to-face with Graves. She smiled at him warmly. "Hiya, Percy! Everything going okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He smirked a little, gesturing over to the exit of the bar. "I think Tina's getting on well with the new apprentice."

Queenie laughed quietly when she looked over; Newt was holding the door open for her sister, smiling bashfully and talking to her in a low voice – it seemed that they were leaving _together_. "I knew it! Teen can't hide anything from me!"

Percival merely raised his whisky in a mock-toast and chuckled lowly. "Indeed. I say we make sure they're alone for half an hour before we all leave – give them some time to get to know each other."

"You know," Queenie hummed as Jacob made his way back over, a gleam in her eyes. "I was thinking the exact same thing, Percy."

* * *

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated! :)**

 **I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been SWAMPED by university and work – also my laptop charger broke so I had to order a new one, and then I had other laptop issues…so yeah. But here's the new chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed it! :D**


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